


The Cure for Insomnia

by Charlie Rose (Night_Owl6)



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Julia is a bitch in this, M/M, Or just queliot if you squint, Past suicidal attempts, Possible OCCness, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts, Threesome - F/M/M, mental health issues galore, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-20 16:52:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night_Owl6/pseuds/Charlie%20Rose
Summary: Things were going great and then they weren't. Turns out you can't hide from your demons forever as Quentin will soon realize.  He begins to disappear into the dark corners of his mind and forgets how to function like a basic human being.  Can the combined efforts of Eliot and Margo save him before it’s too late?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Although this fandom is no stranger to heavy emotional topics, I feel like I need to give you fair warning. This piece deals with pretty dark issues that could be triggering to some people, especially in the later chapters. Thank you for reading this message and without further ado, welcome to my latest work.

Quentin tiredly rubbed his eyes after staring fruitlessly down at the book he'd been trying to read for the last hour. The words had begun to swirl together forming incomprehensive patterns that did nothing but further aggravate his growing headache. He shoved the book away in frustration and leaned back against the hard-wooden chair. Signing deeply, he looked around the library unsurprised to find it empty since it was around 4am.

Lately, a shroud of deep heaviness settled upon Quentin, one that normally accompanied his bouts of depression. Trying his best to ward off the inevitable, he hid himself away in the library, taking advantage of their 24/7 hours and devoured book after book. He was desperate to avoid those thoughts that would come in the dead of the night while he sat alone in his room.

Margo and Eliot took notice that he stayed out way past reasonable hours and tried to question him.  He lied and told them he had been working on a group project that was more complicated than he had expected. They had immediately offered their assistance which made Quentin feel like shit for lying to them. He begun to make it a point to say goodnight to them before heading off to his room and climbed out the window off to another night at the library. 

Ever since he arrived in this strange yet wondrous universe, those two kept him grounded when he felt like he was losing himself.  Quentin noticed that he began to depend on them because whenever they were around, he felt lighter almost.  One of Eliot’s rare but genuine smiles pointed in his direction was enough to drive off the demons that tormented him constantly.  Even Margo with her cold sarcastic demeanor could bring Quentin out of his head with a well-placed witty remark, usually at his expense.

Closing his eyes Quentin could sense the ancient power that seeped off the numerous magical texts. The sparks of magic that seemed to dance across his skin, called out to the magic that pumped throughout his body to the beat of his heart. He foolishly hoped this feeling would be enough to alienate his clinical depression and for a while it did.  Quentin was distracted and overwhelmed by the prospect that _he_ could do magic and the wonder that surrounded Brakebills University.  However, that illusion had been violently shattered with the arrival of the Beast and his subsequent near expulsion.  That terrifying event forced Quentin to admit to himself something he had been trying to ignore. 

He could live without the magic he had found, it would be devastating, but nowhere near as gut-wrenching as the idea of never seeing El or Margo ever again.  This conclusion scared him more then he wanted to admit.  It was only a short amount of time since he first met the pair, and yet he already come to view those two as an integral part of his life. 

With James and Julia, it felt like he was a charity case they took around with them out of pity.  He constantly had to pretend to be someone else to please them.  Instead with Eliot and Margo, he was completely himself and they still wanted to be around him. If anything, they begun to incorporate themselves into his life more, pushing their way past the walls he placed to protected himself.

That’s where this particular depressive episode had stemmed from.  His insecurities picked apart their interactions until it was akin to his relationship with James and Julia.  A new fear manifested in his mind that he would somehow wreck their dynamic duo.  He started distancing himself little by little becoming withdrawn and disappearing into his mind as he watched them from a distance. 

Shaking himself away from his pathetic pity party and melancholic thoughts, Quentin looked up at the clock cursing when he realized was quarter to 5.  He had a class in five hours and if he hurried now, he could attempt to get a couple of hours of sleep.  After shoving his belongings into his messenger bag, he stood up only to sit back down again when his vision blacked out.  “Fuck,” he whispered as he gripped tightly onto the chair hoping the world would soon recalibrate.  He stood up much slower and with better luck he made his way through the dusty shelves toward the exit.

The brisk morning air hit him as he walked through the doors.  The morning sunrise was underway as the sky brightened with every step he took toward the cottage.  Quentin tried to recall the last time he slept for more than a few hours or even ate a substantial meal, but he couldn’t bring himself to remember nor care.  As the cottage came into view, he stopped to enjoy the brief stillness and peace surrounding it as all its occupants lay in their beds dead to the world.  He opened the door slowly and crept through the house following the familiar route free of all creaks and noises up the stairs and to his room. 

Looking around at the room Quentin called his own, he stared at the piles of books covering nearly every surface.  He set his bag down on the ground next to the desk and got undressed throwing his clothes haphazardly around the room.  Once he set up his wards and an alarm spell, he flopped onto his bed and curled up under the covers allowing the gentle warmth to sweep over him. 

Quentin stared down at his pale arms littered with scars as he absentmindedly traced the newest one that had just scabbed over.  It surprised him how easy it was to keep his…habit from his newest friends. They had seen his old scars occasionally, but he took care to glamour the new ones with a carefully crafted illusion spell. 

Back home Julia was aware of his cutting and always forced him to show her his arms constantly checking them and then berating him when he slipped up.  He longtime crushed morphed into something ugly as his resentment toward her grew.  He knew it was unhealthy and most definitely unstable of him, but Julia never bothered asking why he did it.  She always assumed it was just another part of his fucked-up personality and sought to ‘fix him.’  Her voice grating as she lectured him over and over while he sat in silence having given up on trying to defend himself.  He had been clean for nearly 3 months, but the dark urge had come back with a vengeance and more lines joined his morbid collection.

Quentin turned over hiding his arms under the pillow and buried his face into it.  He loved that it somehow still smelled like a combination of Eliot and Margo from the occasions they hung out in his room.  It comforted him and as he breathed in deeply and listened to the sounds of the world waking up, he fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Eliot and Margo, while admittedly had tendencies to be extremely self-absorbed, could usually tell when something was wrong with someone they cared about.  Granted up until now that exception was exclusive to each other.  Therefore, it surprised them when awkward little Q was quickly added onto the short list of people they genuinely liked.

Eliot had been drawn in from the moment he read Quentin’s name off the card, which he still kept hidden away.  The nervous energy poured off of the darling little thing and it took everything in him to act blasé as he led Q to his exam.

Uncharacteristically, he had paced  for hours in his room worried and hoping desperately that Quentin had it in him to pass.  Margo came and sat amused on his bed watching her best friend work himself into a frenzy.  One question was all it took as he gushed about the first-year boy who unexpectedly caught his attention. 

Eliot was used to being the life of the party and the center of everyone’s focus.  He thrived in the spotlight and his carefully crafted persona attracted many men and women alike, something he took advantage of frequently.  He spent the first three months at Brakebills in a drug and alcohol induced haze trying to forget his old life.  The only thing he remembered clearly was Margo Hanson. Sometime in those months they had been brought together and when the fog cleared away, she stubbornly stayed by his side. 

The two formed an unbreakable bond made even stronger by their trials.  The two were hardly seen apart and the duo cemented themselves as the most powerful bitches on campus, the envy of everyone.  Eliot didn’t understand how or why someone as unassuming as Quentin Coldwater captivated him so effortlessly. 

Quentin was the exact opposite of Eliot.  Q spent his life trying to blend into the background as far away from the spotlight as possible.  He had a warm quiet demeanor that offset Eliot’s loud and at times caustic one.  The only time Eliot felt like he could let down his masks and facades was around Margo and Q. 

A fact people frequently forgot was that Eliot was highly intelligent, how else could he have stayed top of his class tied with Margo.  Whenever he struggled on a concept in his classes, he recalled the time that he and Q debated about some advanced theory on magic he could no longer remember.  He made a remark that caused Q to become speechless.  Then Quentin abruptly burst into action as he stuttered through praises, asked if he could use that in an essay, and actually began to take notes on what Eliot said. Bless his heart. 

The look in Quentin’s eyes wasn’t like the mindless desire and lustful gazes he was use to getting.  Rather, it was of pure admiration as though Eliot held the answers for all the great questions in life.  So, if Eliot began to study a little more just so he could see that look again, that would be his little secret.   

Margo, on the other hand, took longer to warm up to Quentin.  Unsure of his presence and frankly jealous of how he stole away Eliot’s attention, she held back behind her ice queen act.  She remembered with guilt how she took pleasure in the way he would flinch back away from her sharp words as though they could physically hurt him. 

One day while they were all hanging out, she watched mesmerized by the way he transformed when he was talking about magic.  For once she didn’t mind when he rambled on and on about his classes and magical theories, she herself had little interest in.  In fact, she kept asking him questions to answers she already knew just to keep him talking.  Later that night, her and El were lounging in the cottage when El teasingly said “Who knew the theory of drawing magic from crystals fascinated you so much.”

She shoved him with her elbow unable to keep the fond smile from her face, “Fuck off.”

“Come on Bambi. You can’t hide from me. You like him don’t you.” Eliot looked down at her, his eyes shining with mirth.

“I don’t completely hate him anymore.” She said nonchalantly. The two shared a look and burst out laughing.  “Okay I can kinda see why you are so obsessed with him.”

“I am not obsessed with-”

“Please don’t insult my intelligence El…You can’t hide from me.”  Margo reiterated his own words, challenging him to refute her.  Instead he took her hand in his and took a big swig of the cocktail he had made, stubbornly staying quiet.  He shrugged with a soft smile on his lips.  Satisfied she leaned back taking a sip from her own drink and the two got lost in their thoughts that drifted to their favorite first year.

Margo was now certain of a few things.  Firstly, Q was a gigantic nerd boy with anxieties for his anxieties that had their own anxieties. Secondly, that Quentin had a passion and belief in magic that outshone anyone she had ever known.  Magic had saved her and Eliot from their lives before, but even they didn’t come close to the pure love of magic that Quentin carried close to his heart.  She had vowed to do anything to keep that passion alive in Q, the boy who had shattered the ice around her heart and pushed his way there right next to El. 

Third and finally, she was certain that Quentin needed protection from everything and anything.  The guy could barely walk without tripping over his own feet or nearly bumping into anything in his path.  He frequently forgot basic human functions like eating and sleeping.  Even more devastating, it was clear that the one thing that could destroy him more than anything was his own self. 

Margo could see the darkness that never seemed too far away from little Q threatening to swallow him whole.  She felt helpless as she watched him curl into himself, making him appear smaller than usual.  It was something she didn’t know how to protect him against, but between her and El, they sought ways to distract him enough to help fight off his depression. 

Although it often frustrated Margo and Eliot whenever Quentin forgot how to be human.  It gave them a way to see how bad he was getting without having to ask directly.  They once tried flat out asking Quentin if his depression was getting worse, but he left them faster than a shopaholic at a Black Friday sale with an unlimited credit card.  Q stuttered away excuses and avoided them for nearly three days before he returned, acting as though nothing had happened. Margo had given Eliot a worried look, one that was echoed on his face and they silently agreed to help Q in their own subtle ways.

Eliot discovered that if Quentin was distracted by a book, which was practically always, he could fool Q into eating.  Eliot would sit nearby and hand him pieces of food bit by bit watching as Q would eat it methodically, absorbed in whatever bit of obscure magic he was learning.  During these moments Eliot would watch Quentin’s mouth move hypnotically as he read, mouthing along with the words and making little noises now and then.  Every so often Quentin would look up from his book at Eliot, surprised that he was still there and gave him a shy smile before returning to his book a light blush on his cheeks.

Once out of food for Quentin, Eliot would throw an arm around his shoulders and curl up next to him, enjoying the company.  Q would occasionally read out passages he though would fascinate El.  These times were so far from the wild nights that Eliot barely remembered, but it filled him with feelings he didn’t think himself capable of.  It amused Eliot endlessly how Quentin stayed oblivious to his rapidly growing obsession.  However, El kept his thoughts to himself for once not wanting to rush into anything and risk losing Quentin forever.

Margo devised her own distraction technique.  She would often pull a protesting Quentin into her room, ordering him to try on various pieces of clothing she had purchased for him.  All she had to do was flash her patented doe eyed look and Quentin was putty in her hands.  She noted the scars on his arms with a heavy heart but said nothing.  She subtly checked for any new ones every time she dragged him in a fashion show, pleased when none had appeared.

Slowly his wardrobe was flushed of the raggedy clothes and transformed into something more stylish but still him.  He had tried to pay her back arguing about her wasting money on him, but she batted his efforts away.  She confessed that money was never an issue with her and that dressing him up was more than worth it.

Her favorite part was the moments Quentin would let her style his remarkably soft hair.  She worked through the tangles with a comb before rhythmically sculpting it into different styles. Then just as she planned, she would observe as his eyes slowly fluttered shut as he gave himself into the soothing feeling as she played with his hair.

Margo would listen as his breath would begin to even out, and he’d lean back against her chest.  She would catch him in her arms still combing his hair with her hand, lay down, and allowed him to sleep hoping to wipe away the dark bags under his eyes. Once in a while, Eliot would come in and join their nap, cuddling close to Quentin’s other side.  In those precious moments Margo knew she had everything she ever needed right there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of action so far, these first two chapters are mainly introductory/background information. Things will begin to pick up in the next chapter promise!


	3. Chapter 3

Quentin knew he had made a mistake the second the stimulant potion touched his lips.  It was now 3am on Wednesday and even after nearly six hours he was still buzzing with the effects of the damn potion.  He barely got any sleep in the last week and needed to stay up to complete an essay that was due tomorrow.  Unfortunately,  he finished the essay considerably earlier than he anticipated and was stuck waiting for the potion to wear off. 

Once again back in the library, at the table he had claimed for himself, he flipped through a spell book that focused on fashion and accessories.  He picked it up randomly because it reminded him of his two favorite people in the world.  He noticed all the little things the two had done for him and wanted to find a way to show them how much he appreciated it.  Thinking back to what he knew about Eliot and Margo, he skimmed the book for items they would appreciate most.

For Eliot, he found a simple yet effective charm to create a one of a kind tie and all he needed was a piece of cloth.  He quickly tore off a strip of his own shirt and laid it down on the table.  After a few tries, he moved through the hand motions while chanting the words in ancient Greek and watched as the cloth turned into something quite beautiful.

As he picked up the tie in awe he marveled at the smooth silky texture and the way the silver threading threw off sparkles in the light.  He knew that this tie would look stunning on Eliot.  He could vividly picture it wrapped around Eliot’s neck; the very one Quentin spent an exorbitant amount of time staring at.  Knowing this tie would be perfect, he moved on excitedly to Margo’s gift. 

He kept along a similar idea and searched for a spell to help him create a necklace worthy of Margo.  He knew, from her many sessions of fashion lessons, that she was incredibly meticulous when it came to the clothes she chose to wear, so this necklace had to be perfect.  He finally found a spell, but it was deceptive in its minimal preparation.

All it required was a strand of metal and a plain old stone to be placed upon a specific pattern he could draw onto a page in his notebook.  Both of which he found easily by going outside and stealing a stone from the landscape and taking apart his pen for the metal spring.  The next part was harder, he needed to meditate and clearly picture the exact necklace he wanted to appear.  Quentin was never good at meditation nor was he adept at jewelry design.  Drawing the correct symbols in his notebook and placing the material in the center placing his hands over top he closed his eyes. 

He tried clearing his mind and thinking of a necklace, but nothing happened.  Frustrated he closed his eyes and instead focused on the way he felt around Margo.  The line of thought turned into thinking of Margo and Eliot, as even in his subconscious he couldn’t think of one without the other.  A rush of magic flew down his arms and felt the raw material heat up under his hands.  Quentin let out an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak of surprise and jumped back, falling off his chair.  He scrambled back onto his feet grateful for the lack of students in the library and peered down at his attempt. 

There cradled on the paper was a necklace that was better than anything he could ever hope for.  It was a simple golden chain with three special gems he knew represented each one of the trio.  Touching the stones, he was filled with every happy emotion he felt when he was near the two.

The two spells had chased the potion out of his system finally, and Quentin felt his utter exhaustion catching up to him.  He delicately put away the gifts and headed home.  His limbs kept getting heavier and heavier as he dragged himself across campus.  ‘ _Maybe I could just fall asleep on the lawn._ ’ He thought to himself. ‘ _Yeah that wouldn’t be so bad_.’

“Quentin!” A voice called out to him. He turned toward the speaker too quickly and the world tilted on its axis.

“Q, babe, you look like shit.”  Eliot said as him and Margo rushed toward the stumbling man.

“Thanks El. You always say the nicest things.” Quentin quipped, his words slurring as his brain shut down further. 

“Quentin look at me,” Margo demanded holding his chin in her hand and forced him to look into her eyes. “Are you drunk? High? Do you have a concussion?”

“Nooo, didn’t drink, I’m too short to be high, and my head’s fine…well kinda” Quentin giggled insanely. “jus just s-sleepy. So sleepy.”  The world around him moved in slow motion and he wanted nothing more than to lay on the soft grass and go to sleep. 

Margo and Eliot exchanged concerned looks. Eliot nodded to her and with the assistance of his telekinetic specialty, he picked up Quentin and held him in his arms. Something made immensely more difficult when Q started squirming wildly trying to get down. 

“Shush shush it’s okay Q, calm down it’s just me.” Eliot whispered in soft soothing tones, kissing the top of his head.

“El! It is you!” Quentin reached up and placed a hand on Eliot’s face,  “whoa.” He whispered starstruck by how beautiful Eliot was.  His beauty enhanced by the soft glow of the night lights that illuminated the campus.  As Margo watched the scene from nearby, she snickered amused. Quentin leaned back almost flipping out of Eliot’s arm to look at her.  “Margo! You’re here too!”

“Whoa hey there Q” She stepped closer to push his head back against Eliot’s chest. “Let’s get you home.” 

“Wait No! My bag. Stop! I need my bag!” He started thrashing around again frantic with his need to make sure the special gifts were safe.

“Quentin! I have your bag it’s safe. I have it right here.” She moved to the side and showed him the bag as it rested against her side.  “Okay. Now stop freaking the fuck out. We are going home.”

“Okay.” Quentin said, reaching out to her he gripped her smaller hand in his, “keep it safe. It’s really really really important.”

“I promise Q.”  She said sincerely.  Not a moment later Quentin fell fast asleep safe in Eliot’s strong arms.

“Well…that was something.”  Eliot stated as he glanced down at the sleeping man.

“Yeah I’ll say.  What the actual fuck Eliot?”

“Bambi, I have no idea.  Like he said I think he is just very very tired.”

“Do you have any idea how sleep deprived you need to be to get this bad?!” Margo nearly screamed in disbelief.

“Shhh! If he wakes up again, you’re the one that’ll be carrying him.” Eliot adjusted his hold on Quentin when he made a small noise of distress. “How can someone so innocent and adorable looking be so shit at taking care of themselves? Fuck, are we even qualified for that?” 

“I have no damn idea, but I sure as hell I don’t want anyone else doing it. You saw what a shit job his last two ‘buddies’ did.”  Margo sneered.  Every story Quentin had told them of his times with James and Julia, it left her hating them more.

They continued on in the silence of the night, thankful when the cottage came into view. Margo walked ahead and opened the door for them as they entered dark living room.  They proceeded silently up the stairs and parted ways into their respective bedrooms. Eliot gently placed Quentin down onto his bed and pulled off his pants gently.  He then tucked him into the covers chuckling softly when Q curled himself into a tight ball. 

He got undressed and into his own sleeping clothes and started his nightly ritual siting at his vanity.  Hearing his door open he turned and looked at Margo who entered carrying her blanket and pillow.  “Hey Bambi look. Our own personal Q ball.”

Margo rolled her eyes, but her eyes softened when she gazed upon Quentin’s sleeping form.  She sat down on Eliot’s lap.  “El what would have happened if we hadn’t found Q tonight?” 

Eliot exhaled heavily as he curled his arms around Margo’s waist. Hesitantly, as though afraid of his words, he closed his eyes and whispered his response. “I think…someone would have found him passed out somewhere outside tomorrow morning, hopefully unharmed.” 

“Right.  I figured it would be something like that.” Angered by Quentin’s lack of self-preservation she stood up and started pacing furiously.  “Fuck! El I don’t understand how he got this shitty without either of us noticing. When the hell did we become the responsible ones in this relationship?!”

“I don’t know Margo.” Eliot said emotionlessly.

“Why are we always finding him hurt somehow?? First it was the time he was bleeding and bruised because that damn Beast fucker attacked him. Then it was that hedge bitch who nearly destroyed his soul with that godforsaken spell. And now this!? Not to mention the hundreds of times he just forgets to eat or sleep unless we remind him?! Why can’t he just catch a fucking break?!” Margo ranted letting go of all the frustrations and hurt she had kept bottled up. 

Eliot stood up and wrapped his arms around Margo as she cried into his chest.  He rubbed her hair and rested his chin upon her head, holding back tears of his own.  “Margo, Quentin choose us to be his best friends and we choose him.  Like it or not we are stuck together. Think of all the times Q had to help us fix our own shit.  Or dragged our sorry drunk asses into bed and made sure we didn’t suffocate on our vomit in our sleep.  If it makes you feel any better, it’s Q’s own fault for being so adorable we got attached to him. He’s worth it though, right?”

Margo listened to Eliot’s heartbeat that reminded her that she was not alone.  In the background Quentin’s soft breathing further reminded her of the silent vow she made to protect Quentin. 

“Yes. He is worth it. Thanks El.” She leaned up and kissed him on the lips. “But if you ever tell anyone I cried on you, I will chop of your dick and feed it to you.”

“Duly noted Bambi.” Eliot said amused.

The two of them crawled into bed with Quentin making sure he stayed in the only safe place they knew, right between the both of them.  They planned to interrogate Quentin in the morning but for the moment they allowed their minds to enter Morpheus’ tender care.


	4. Chapter 4

Quentin slowly came to, enjoying the feeling of warmth that surrounded him.  He went to stretch but was shocked when he brushed against the soft skin of another human.  His eyes snapped open and he stared around wildly. He relaxed relieved when he noticed Eliot’s wild curls popping out from under the covers and Margo’s manicured hand covering his chest.  He yawned widely and nestled back against the velvety sheets. 

He tried to remember how he ended up in this predicament, but found he wasn’t nearly as bothered as he perhaps should have been.  If anything, it was a special treat to wake up surrounded by the people he cared about most.  Being in the middle of those two felt like being enveloped by a human shield.  One that protected Quentin from all the negative thoughts that preoccupied his mind daily.  He was becoming more addicted to the feeling by the second and he wished he could stay in his favorite place forever.

Sadly, with a quick check of the time Quentin realized that he needed to get ready for class soon.  He moved as carefully as possible so he wouldn’t disturb the sleeping pair and attempted to crawl over Eliot.

“Well isn’t this just a lovely view to wake up to.” Eliot murmured his voice deep and gravelly.  

Quentin realized that he was practically straddling Eliot and flushed deep red stammering out apologies. Margo now awake and laughing, reached out for Quentin’s arm and pulled him back down on the bed, satisfied when he landed on his back.

“Mmm hey puppy, who said you were allowed to leave yet.” Margo laid her head on Quentin’s shoulder and tangled her legs with his.  Meanwhile on his other side, Eliot turned to face them.  He propped his head up with a hand for support and with his free one he pushed Quentin’s hair behind his ears.

“You know right about now would be an excellent time to tell us what was going on with you last night.” Eliot tried to casually mention but his voice was thick with concern.

“It was nothing.” Quentin tried to get up only to have two sets of hands hold him in place.

“Yeah, you dead on your feet due to extreme exhaustion was nothing. My mistake.” Eliot said sarcastically glaring at Quentin.

“I just have trouble sleeping sometime, it’s no big deal.  Hey where’s my bag?” Quentin asked trying to divert their attention.

“Ugh not that fucking bag again!” Margo exclaimed.  She went and brought back his bag throwing it onto the bed.  “Here. What is so important?”

“Okay so I know I’m not the-the best person to be around, I’m difficult, and I have a list of issues a mile long.”  Quentin dug into his bag searching for their gifts, avoiding all eye contact. 

“But, you guys um, seem to still want to be around me.  It means more to me than I could ever say. So um here.”

Hands shaking violently Quentin silently held out the personalized necklace and tie to Margo and Eliot respectively.  Unable to look at their expression, he picked at the seam of his shirt looking down.

Eliot and Margo sat unable to take their eyes off the presents Quentin had obviously custom-made just for them.  His magic covered every inch of the accessories, which made them all the more special. 

“Quentin.”  Margo breathed in awe. “I love it. Help me put it on.”

Margo turned and Quentin moved her silky hair away from her neck, caressing her soft skin which sent chills down Margo’s spine.  Taking care not to break the delicate metal, he clasped it around her neck. Eliot was speechless for once, turning the tie over in his hand watching as the morning glow reflected off the silver threads woven into intricate patterns. 

“This is the nicest gift I’ve ever received Q.” Eliot told Quentin.

“You’ve done so much for me, both of you, and I just wanted to do something to show you that I-I really appreciate it.” 

Eliot reached out and places a finger under Quentin’s chin, turning his head to look at him. “You never have to thank us for that.  We love helping you because we care about you.” A gentle kiss was placed upon Quentin’s cheek and all his tension eased out. 

“We’re here for you Q, all you have to do is ask.”  Margo spoke softly, giving Quentin’s cheek a kiss of her own.

“I’m glad.” Quentin said simply, pleased that his spontaneous gifts were a hit.

A few hours later the trio had met up for lunch to take advantage of the warm sunny day.  They set up a picnic blanket under a large sycamore tree under the direction of Margo. 

“Hey, you’re wearing your gifts!” Quentin exclaimed.

“Of course we would!  After all the effort you put into crafting such brilliant gifts.  I want the world to gaze upon these creations with envy.” Eliot stated as he leaned his back against the tree and took a bite of a peach.

“Careful El, I might get a big head from all that praise.”  Quentin joked as he played with his deck of cards, performing little magic tricks.

“Please Q, you don’t have a egotistical bone in your body.” Margo sassed throwing a grape at his head.

“I can be egotistical!”  Eliot and Margo broke out into peals of laughter, as Quentin pouted.

“Aww I think we hurt little Q’s feelings.” Margo said poking Quentin’s side, grinning when he broke out into giggles.  Actual giggles.

“Come here Q, I’ll save you from the wicked bitch of the west.”  Eliot held his arms out and Quentin crawled over and settled against Eliot, his back resting on El’s strong chest.

The three spent the afternoon relaxing and joking around just like old times, before things got so screwed up.  Eventually, Margo packed up the rest of the food and left for her last class, blowing them a kiss goodbye as she strolled off.  Quentin played with the rings on Eliot’s long fingers, while Eliot rested his chin on Quentin’s shoulder and enjoyed the younger man’s closeness.

“Is that blood?” Eliot asked pointing to a small spot on Quentin’s sleeve.

“Oh that. Um… I got a bloody nose before and some must have gotten on my shirt.” Quentin banished the drop of blood with a quick spell.

“Sorry.” Quentin murmured randomly some time later.

“Sorry babe, I’m lost. Why are you apologizing?”

“For last night. I don’t remember all of it, but I remember you carrying me to bed, and Margo watching over my bag.  You could have just left me outside, I would have been fine.”

“I wouldn’t leave you outside, perish the thought silly Q. Why were you so tired though?” Eliot asked gently, keen to discuss the topic Quentin had avoided earlier.

“Occasionally, well more than that really, I-I get so caught up in my own head.  My thoughts terrify me sometimes and-and-and so I force myself to stay up and distract myself until I physically cannot keep my eyes open.” Quentin revealed.

“Does that happen often?” Eliot’s voice was tinged with palpable concern, his arms clenching around Quentin’s waist as he nuzzled the side of his face.

“Yes.”  Quentin exhaled, holding Eliot’s hands for comfort.

“I’m sorry you have to go through that. I won’t bore you with platitudes I’m sure your tired of hearing but know this. My door is always open if you want a distraction or company.”

“Thanks El, that means a lot.” Quentin turned his head and placed a kiss onto Eliot’s cheek. They stayed there, just lounging in the warmth of the afternoon sun, while Quentin lightly rested on Eliot.

“As much as I’d love to stay here all day, you need to go to class and my bladder is screaming at me.”

They reluctantly stood up knowing their peaceful time had to end.  Eliot reached out and picked a leaf out of Quentin’s hair, bringing them closer together.  Quentin watched Eliot’s pink lips, wondering if they were soft as they look and took a step even closer.

"Quentin!” Alice called out interrupting the two men. “There you are, we’re going to be late for class.”

"Dammit Alice” Eliot muttered angrily.  “I’ll see you later Q.”

Eliot leaned over and gave Quentin a lingering kiss on his forehead and walked off, Quentin’s eyes following him the whole time.  Alice rolled her eyes and grabbed the love-struck man by the forearm and dragged him in the opposite direction.  Quentin winced as Alice squeezed too hard over his new cuts, stinging as they rubbed against the rough material of his shirt.

“Are you okay?” Alice asked in concern.

“Yeah, I just don’t want to go to class.” He whined grinning when Alice rolled her eyes.  

Alice prattled on about advantages of using Rose Quartz over Amethyst for spell casting, but Quentin wasn’t listening.  His body might be following along, but his mind remained behind under the tree seconds away from being kissed by Eliot.

* * *

“We should go away this weekend.” Margo stated as she painted Eliot’s toenails a vivid blue. The trio were sitting in the living room of the cottage, relaxing after the completion of another long week of classes.  

“Where would we go?” Eliot asked as he moved his piece on the checkerboard Quentin dug out from some dusty corner.

“King me.” Quentin declared in victory as Eliot cursed. “I know somewhere we can go.”

“Ooh do tell.” Margo said excited leaning forward.

“It’s in the city and only about a 20-minute walk from the nearest portal into NYC.” Quentin made one final move on the board and won the 4th game in a row against Eliot. 

“Let’s go, I’m tired of losing at checkers.” Eliot proclaimed standing up dragging Quentin along with him.

“You don’t even know where we’re going!”

“I don’t care Bambi, anywhere is better than sitting around here.”  Eliot pulled her off the couch as well and she laughed as the momentum sent her bumping into Quentin.

“Fine I’ll go pack an overnight bag, you guys go do the same and I’ll meet you guys back here in exactly 10 minutes.”  Margo commanded, as she began planning all she would need for the weekend. 

“Yes ma’am.” Quentin saluted and went to pack a few things of his own.

Quentin led the way through the bustling city until he stopped in front of a sketchy convenience store that took up the bottom floor of a rundown old building. 

“Ta Da! We’re here!” Quentin announced sarcastically, loving the horrified look on his friend’s faces.

“Um Q listen, if this was all some fucked up plan to lure us out here and murder us…Well I’m sorry for all the bad thing’s I’ve said about your messenger bag behind your back.”  Eliot confessed, looking around for muggers gripping onto his bag tighter.

“El no, I’m not going to…wait what’s wrong with my bag?” Quentin clenched his beloved bag closer in defense.

“Oh puppy. What isn’t wrong with your bag?” Margo watched horrified as a homeless man began defecating in an alleyway across the street.  “Seriously Quentin, where the fuck are we?”

“Follow me if you dare.”  Quentin let out a poor imitation of malevolent laughter and pulled an old iron key out of his pocket.  Unlocking a door, he led them through the building that was quite modern and updated on the inside, up to the top floor.

“Welcome to my sanctuary.” He opened a second set of doors after entering a code into a lock pad. 

“What. The. Fuck.” Eliot and Margo took one step in and their jaws dropped.

The apartment was an enormous industrial styled open living space with gorgeous exposed brick walls, high vaulted ceilings, and hard wood floors. Black colored support beams ran across the ceiling, which matched the iron staircase that led to the loft above.  There were many windows that would let in a lot of natural light during the day.  The kitchen and living room were on the left side of the apartment and a fireplace could be seen in the living room surrounded by plush sofas. The whole place was decorated in earth tones with splashes of blues and greens throughout.

“My grandpa owned the building and he left it to me when he died.  I would have never been able to afford a place like this otherwise.  I rent out the other apartments and the store downstairs to help pay for the taxes and utilities. For now, my dad’s been managing the building but soon I’ll have to take over.”  Quentin explained as he took their bags and placed them in the bedroom located to their left near the entry way.

“How long have you lived here?”

“Well, I never exactly lived here.”  Quentin rubbed the back of his neck.  “My um, therapist didn’t think it would be safe for me to live alone.  So, I lived with Julia and James before Brakebills, and just came here when I needed a break.”

Eliot and Margo wandered off and started investigating the vast living space, unapologetically going through the drawers and his belongings.

“No, it’s fine why don’t you go through all of my possessions.” Quentin said feeling vulnerable. He fidgeted in place, unsure of what to do as little pieces of himself were being exposed while they explored his personal safe haven.

“Don’t mind if we do.”  Margo flipped through Quentin’s vinyl records before moving onto the bookshelves that took up the entire right side of the apartment. “I knew you were a bibliophile, but damn Quentin! Have you read all of these?”

“More or less.” Quentin had always loved reading and with his insomnia often went through a book or two a night. He used to spend his weekend combing through secondhand bookshops buying whatever caught his attention.  As a result, he ended up with an eclectic collection of books.  You could find volumes featuring topics such as quantum physics, great writers of the 18th century, philosophy and psychology, human anatomy, ancient Mesopotamian culture and more.

“You can play musical instruments?!” Eliot’s voice rang behind him.  Quentin wandered over where Eliot was standing over instruments dulled by a thin layer of dust.

“Somewhat.  Most of the instruments were my Grandpa’s, but he taught me when I was little.”

“Quentin Coldwater, there is more to you that meets the eye isn’t there.  I wonder what else you’re hiding.”  Eliot winked suggestively, leaving no guesses as to what he was referring too. Quentin stuttered and flushed when a wave a desire coursed through his body. 

Margo wisely chose that moment to interrupt them, playfully demanding food. Quentin took them to his favorite Chinese takeaway, which was a few short blocks away. They were enjoying the city life, watching as the sun set reflected off of the glass forest that towered above them.

“Quentin!”  A bitter voice called out.  Quentin turned and saw Julia briskly walking toward them.  He wrapped his arms around his sides, preparing for the battle that was about to unfold. 

“What do you want Julia?”

“What can’t I just say hi to an old friend. Oh wait that’s right, we aren’t friends. You made sure of that you self-centered-bastard.”

“Um excuse me bitch, kindly fuck off.” Margo stepped in front of Quentin, while Eliot placed a hand on Quentin’s shoulder.  He could feel the younger man begin to tremble as the confrontation escalated.

“Damn Q, you don’t wait long do you. Found another pair to babysit you. Better watch out before he tries to throw himself off a building again, and you’re stuck dragging him to the nearest loony bin where he belongs.” Julia glared at Quentin, knowing exactly what to say to hurt him the most.

“Again?” Eliot questioned faintly.

“Didn’t he mention? How many times did you try to kill yourself Q, was it three or four times?”

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but it’s time to go back to whatever fucking gutter you crawled out of. Now!” Margo’s hand shot out warning sparks as her anger toward Julia elevated to new heights.

“Still having a girl fight your battles Quentin. Pathetic. You’re nothing but a coward.”  When Julia gave Margo a hard shove that almost knocked her to the ground, something inside of Quentin snapped.

“Fuck you Julia! I’m not the pathetic broken loser you always thought I was. I found people who actually give a damn about me unlike you.  You’re just jealous that I can do real magic.  You must not know what that’s like but let me tell you.  It’s far better than that flashy little bullshit that is all you will ever be capable of. I’ve grown up and it’s about damn time you did to.  Get over yourself because not everything is about you.”

Quentin turned and stormed off ignoring the calls of his friends.  Angry tears poured down his face, blurring his vision as her vindictive words bounced around in his head sharp like daggers.  Eliot and Margo finally caught up to him pulling him to a stop.  Eliot wrenched Quentin into a three-way hug with Margo and stood in silence as Quentin broke down.

“Quentin, honey, we need to talk about what just happened.” Eliot said.

“I know but please not right now. Let’s just go home, eat our delicious food, and drink the night away. Please.” He flashed them his puppy dog eyes and Eliot and Margo nodded in agreement.

Arriving back at the apartment Eliot lit the fireplace with a little pyrotechnic magic. Quentin heated the food with a quick wave of his hand and Margo grabbed a bottle of expensive whisky from the liquor cabinet.  They basked in the jollity of their evening, singing and dancing along as the record player sang about better days and got steadily more drunk.

“Julia’s a bitch.” Quentin slurred sometime later.

“Hear hear!” Eliot agreed a little too enthusiastically and slid out of the chair he was reclining in.

“Don’t worry Q, you’ll never have to see her miserable face again, you have us.” Margo decreed as she rose the bottle, they’d been passing around, high in the air.

“I’m glad I never brought her here, she’d probably only destroy this place.”  Quentin knew he made the right decision to only allow El and Margo entrance to his sanctuary.  They made the place feel complete, and Quentin could see them spending a lot of time there in the future.

When the other two fell asleep, sprawled out in the living room,  Quentin got up and walked into the bedroom.  He reached under the bed and pulled out a dusty old tackle box.  Opening it up, he looked down at its contents emotionlessly. Amongst some random clutter were his grandparents wedding bands, and a few documents that named Quentin as the sole heir to all of his grandfather’s worldly possessions.  The item he was looking for specifically was an old pocket knife his father gave him when he turned fifteen.  The knife was a family heirloom and had the name Coldwater carved into the base.

Picking it up, Quentin flicked out the blade and stared at the cool metal with its razor-sharp edge. He nodded satisfied pushing the blade back into the wooden base and tucked it into his back pocket. He returned the box to its original spot and walked back into the living room.

“Where did you go?” Margo murmured half asleep.

“Bathroom.” He lied, kissing Margo’s cheek tucking the blankets in around her. “Night Margo.”

“Night Q.”

Quentin eased himself down, sinking into the plush rug, a few feet away from where Margo and Eliot were curled up together.  He fell asleep into a restless sleep watching as the burning embers in the cooling hearth slowly died out.  


	5. Chapter 5

The weeks passed by and the leaves morphed into vibrant shades of crimson and amber, swirling to the ground as they tumbled from the branches above.  Cold winds caressed the grass, coating the blades with a fine layer of frost that glimmered in the light of the morning sun.  Woolen hats and scarves adorned the passersby as they shuffled from building to building, seeking the welcoming warmth from within. In a blink of an eye, barren trees stood tall and dormant bracing themselves against the harsh winter breeze.

A fierce frenzy began, as students fanatically begin to prep for the finals that were fast approaching.  Coffee sales skyrocketed and the library was full of students at all hours who desperately tried to cram as much information into their brains as possible.  Even the professors sensed the rising tide of stress and anxiety, as they reminded the students of the topics that would be covered on their final exams.

While the students rushed by in constant motion prepping for their exams, Quentin felt himself slowing down.  The fear of failing and being forced to leave forever overpowered him, often leaving him stuck in bed not wanting to face reality.  He couldn’t bring himself to study, he knew that it was important but just couldn’t summon up the energy.  He spiraled down into a vicious cycle of contradictory thought, one moment not caring if he failed and the next filled with so much anxiety he could hardly breathe. 

On top of all that, Quentin’s thoughts took a dark turn as his guilt toward Margo and Eliot increased.  He could see their tension and worry for him rising and hated how badly his issues were impacting them. Quentin couldn’t help but feel like a massive burden, doing nothing but weighing them down when they had their own problems to deal with. 

The years of practice he had pretending everything was all right, came into use as he tried to make more of an effort for them.  The old group-project-excuse was utilized frequently as he made his escape and withdrew further into his mind.  Whenever they would eat together, he picked at his food and vanished the pieces while they weren’t looking.  Despite these precautions he found himself dissociating more.  Often coming back to see Eliot or Margo scrutinizing him, their faces pinched tight with concern. 

Another issue that had developed was his aversion to mirrors. Quentin avoided looking at his reflection simply because he hated what he saw.  He almost didn’t recognize the gaunt face with deep purple bags under the eyes as his own.  A haunted expression carved onto his face that he couldn’t remove.  One particularly violent night, Quentin was filled with a manic rage so strong he punched his mirror, shattering it instantly.  He stood gratified by the cascading bits of glass falling to the ground, his reflection now just as broken as he was.

It was Thursday afternoon and Quentin decided to skip all of his classes.  Instead he sat in front of the Van Pelt or Woof Fountain staring into the murky depths that reflected the cloudy grey sky.  The fountain feature was turned off leaving the water still and glassy, unaffected by the bellowing winds. Quentin looked intensely into the deep pool wondering if he dived in now would he sink down forever or eventually hit the bottom.  Part of him screamed to jump in and test the theory.  While his inner demons crooned sympathetically, telling that it would be so easy to just let it all go.

The wind whipped at his skin, but Quentin felt numb to the biting cold.  Clenched into his hands was his grandfather’s pocketknife.  He spent the last half an hour flicking the blade in and out absentmindedly.  Quentin pressed the sharp knife against a unmarked patch on his forearm and watched dispassionately as a bead of ruby blood contrasted against his pale skin. 

A loud caw snapped him out of his trance, and he looked up to see a crow perched on the fountains edge.  As it stared into Quentin’s soul, a flash of Margo and Eliot’s faces flickered across his mind.  He dropped the knife as though it had burned him and scrambled back in horror.

An icy realization settled in Quentin’s core as he realized how close he’d come to throwing himself into the fountain.  He knew he couldn’t do this on his own any longer and needed help.  The only people in the world he could trust were Margo and Eliot.  This revelation sent him coursing across campus towards the cottage. 

Quentin clung onto the tiny spark of courage that drove him to want to fight for his life.  He ran up the stairs and was just about to enter Margo’s room when her irate voice froze him in place.

“I literally cannot stand him anymore! I am going to punch him in the fucking throat if he comes near me one more time.  He is so needy and whiney and always follows us around like a pathetic little lost child.”

Quentin felt his whole world collapsing around him as he choked back tears.

“He’s in love with you Margo, he can’t help it.”  Eliot remarked, his voice muffled by the door.

“I don’t fucking care El! If he doesn’t back off, I will _eviscerate_ him.”

Quentin blindly turned around and bumped into a potted plant that someone left in the hallway, knocking it over.  He bolted down the stairs, but he slipped on a stray book and went crashing down before landing heavily in a heap at the bottom. He stayed there dazed by everything that had transpired over the last couple minutes. 

Margo and Eliot came bouldering down the staircase panicked upon seeing their friend at the bottom.

“Quentin! Jesus are you okay?!” Eliot screamed scanning his body for any injuries.

Quentin closed his eyes fighting back tears.  ‘ _Fuck why are they such good actors, pretending to be worried about someone they hate._ ’

“Q fuck! You’re bleeding. We need to get you to the infirmary.”  Margo shook off her sweater and pressed the fabric against a cut on his forehead to stop the bleeding.

“No no it’s fine I’ll go by myself.” Quentin protested, not wanting to spend another moment falling for their act. “I’m meeting Alice in the library later anyway and it’s on the way.”

Before they could make any further arguments, Quentin got up and stumbled out the door. Baffled by Quentin’s abrupt behavior, the two stood in the entry way glancing at the front entrance.  Shaking off their stupor, Eliot turned to Margo and nudged her in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Todd is right over there. Go tell him everything you said to me upstairs and don’t forget to include a threat of physical violence! You know how much I love those.”

“Wish me luck.” She called out and stormed into the kitchen.

Eliot watched the show, but he was unable to enjoy the verbal spanking unfold as Margo tore into Todd.  A terrible feeling sank into his stomach.  Something felt off about Quentin, but he couldn’t figure out what.  He stared out the window wishing he went with him to the infirmary.

A half mile away Quentin raced through the darkening forest in random directions, lost in a dissociative haze.  He kept going further and further, branches and vines slapping him with thorns digging into his flesh.  He was going on pure instinct and he locked in escape mode trying to get as far away as he could. Tears streamed down his face, obscuring his vision.  As a result, he didn’t see the massive log in his path until he went careening over it.

Quentin laid in the dirt, his whole body hurting and his heart felt like it was being ripped to shreds.  He pushed up his sleeves and dug his fingers into the cuts opening them up again.  Sobs turn into screams as he gripped tightly onto his hair and released all his emotions into the atmosphere.  His magic busted out violently destroying everything within five feet.

Quentin stared up into the sky unseeing, feeling completely hollow and desperately wishing he’d jump in the fountain when he had the chance.

* * *

“Margo, shouldn’t Quentin have come back by now?”

Back at the cottage, Eliot could be seen through the windows pacing clearly agitated. His hair was uncharacteristically disheveled from the amount of times he ran his fingers through it in frustration.  Meanwhile, Margo sat on the couch her fingers worrying the necklace Quentin gave her.  It was a new habit she developed as comfort for whenever she felt anxious.

“Maybe he snuck into his room without us knowing?” Margo said dubiously. 

Eliot shot her a skeptical look but nevertheless, the two made their way to his room.  Walking past an upturned plant, they turned down the hall and eased open Quentin’s door.  Hoping to see Quentin at his desk, they were disappointed when the room was completely empty.  Eliot and Margo refused to let their panic surmount and set about rationally formulating where Quentin could be.

“Okay well, he fell down pretty hard.  Maybe he’s still at the infirmary?” Margo suggested hopefully.  However, the foreboding feeling Eliot experienced earlier increased tenfold.

The two grabbed their coats, dashed out the cottage, and traveled across campus to the infirmary. Margo led the way as she slammed open the glass doors of the infirmary and marched up to the receptionist.

“Hi, our friend Quentin Coldwater came by earlier and we need to know if he’s still here.”

The receptionist, a healing student intern, took a quick look at the sign in log. “Hmm, I’m sorry we have no records of him ever coming in today.” 

“That’s impossible. Quentin. Coldwater. Check again.” Margo slapped her hands down onto the desk.  Her rising voice caused several heads to turn their way curiously.

“Look Miss Hanson.” The women behind the desk gave an irritated sigh. “Just because you keep repeating his name and yelling at me doesn’t mean my answer will change.  He’s not here and never was.  Now leave before I call security.”

“Maybe he’s in the library? He said he was meeting Alice.”  Eliot said, grasping as straws as they tried to come up with places their wayward friend could be.

They raced to the library and split up as they searched frantically for Quentin.  The library was an enormous building, filled with dozens of small study nooks and private corners all occupied but not by the person in question.  

A flash of blonde hair bent over a thick tome grabbed Margo’s attention.

“Alice!!” Margo screamed from across the room.

“Shh!!” Angry voices hissed from all around.

“Oh fuck off.”  Margo ignored them and began moving toward Alice.  Eliot appeared from behind the shelves, having heard her shout from a few rows over, and strode over to confront the bewildered woman.

“Alice, where’s Quentin?”  Eliot demanded, his hands planted on the table in front of her.  Alice had never seen him so serious and was instantly on guard.

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him much outside of our classes. Which reminds me, he skipped today and that’s the third time in two weeks, I can’t keep giving him my notes.  I need them to study too.”

“Wait, what about the group project for your final? Aren’t you guys working together?” Margo probed. 

“What group project? The final was an essay on transfigurations and we already handed it in.  That professor never assigns group projects, who told you he did?”  Alice fiddled with the pencil in her hand.

With every passing hour, they were left with more questions than answers as Quentin’s lies were revealed.  It was evident that he never had any group projects and he clearly never went to the infirmary. Margo gripped onto Eliot’s hand and dragged him out of the library without a word to Alice.

The tried searching the campus and interrogating people to see if anyone has seen him but turned up negative on both fronts.  The sun had fully gone down by the time they ended up in front of the Woof Fountain out of options and nearly out of hope.

Eliot began pacing once more.  He was angry and hurt that Quentin had been lying to them this whole time.  At the same time, he was unbelievably worried that they couldn’t find any trace of him.  Hours had past and it felt like Quentin had disappeared into thin air.  His spiraling thoughts were halted as he stumbled over something in the grass.

“What the fuck?” Eliot leaned over and picked up a pocket knife.  He was grateful that he didn’t stab himself as the blade was still out.  However, he froze instantly when he noticed the word _Coldwater_ inscribed into the base. Upon further inspection, he cursed loudly seeing drops of dried blood on the knife.

“What!?” Margo asked frantic watching Eliot’s face rapidly pale.

Wordlessly he showed her the knife.  Their eyes darted toward each other before refocusing on the fountain’s dark watery surface.

“You don’t think he…” Eliot trailed off, sick with the thought that Quentin could be in the fountain.  He began hyperventilating as Margo remained silent, staring horrified at the fountain tears streaming down her face.

“Margo no he wouldn’t!”  Eliot’s voice cracked as his heart clenched painfully.  He knew the truth, that Quentin could have. For as hard as he tried, he couldn’t ignore his mind screaming that Quentin had tried to kill himself before.

While Eliot focused on stopping his panic attack, Margo noticed someone striding by. Someone that could actually help them find the answers they were looking for.

“Penny!” Margo called out in desperation.  “Can you find Quentin?”

“What no, I’m not some fucking tracking dog at your beck and call.” Penny sneered, scoffing at her.  He went to travel away but Margo gripped onto him, her nails digging into his bicep.

“Quit dicking around you asshole. This is fucking serious.”

Penny looked at Margo’s tear stained face and at Eliot who looked as though his world had ended clenching something tightly in his hands.  His eyes boring into Penny’s, calling out a silent plea.

“Fine, but you owe me.” Penny closed his eyes and concentrated on finding the familiar tenor of Quentin’s mind.  Suddenly, he was slammed with an enormous amount of pain and screaming thoughts so loud it that nearly brought him to his knees.

“Shit! What the fuck is going on? His mind is a wreck! He’s somewhere in the forest but I couldn’t get a good feel for where exactly.” Penny said actually concerned about Quentin.  “Look I don’t know what’s going on and I really don’t want to know either. But you guys need to find him fast.”

“He’s not dead.” Eliot said relieved.

“No. Not yet at least, we need to hurry El. Thanks Penny!”  She called out behind her.

They used the blood on the knife and casted a tracking spell, cursing that they didn’t think of that sooner. The knife hung in the air spinning directionless, until it gradually came to a standstill and began floating in a single direction.

They chased after the knife, searching the trees for Quentin praying to the gods that they would find him alive.  After 20 minutes of the most suspenseful moments of their lives, the knife came to a stop.  Plucking it out of the air they looked and saw a circle of charred remains with Quentin’s body laying unresponsive in the middle.

They rushed toward him checking his pulse relieved when they found one beating steadily under their fingers. His eyes were closed, and he showed no signs of life other than the tears that still trickled down his face. 

Looking him over they were horrified to see his sleeves pulled up exposing lines upon lines of angry cuts marring his skin. 

“I thought he wasn’t cutting! Shit he must have been covering them with a glamor.” Margo began to clean the cuts that were covered in dirt, to fight off infection. She wasn’t a healer therefore any spells done were only a temporary fix until they could properly wrap his arms later.

“I didn’t notice either—Wait the other day I saw blood on his sleeve, but he said it was from a bloody nose. FUCK!”  Eliot screamed into the forest throwing the pocket knife away as hard as he could.

“That isn’t going to help!” Margo screeched.

“I KNOW!” Eliot cried out.  He fell to his knees beside Quentin, pulling his head into his lap.

Tears filled his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

“I don’t understand what happened??” Margo questioned, trying to figure out when everything went so horribly wrong.

Eliot thought back to the afternoon and realized Quentin must have heard them talking about Todd and assumed they were talking about him instead.

“Fuck Margo, the plant!” 

“Eliot what the fuck are you talking about!?”

“Listen, I noticed the plant that someone put outside your door was knocked over when we rushed out to check on Quentin.  What if he overheard us talking, bumped into the damn thing, and then fell down the stairs?”

“But we were talking about Todd, who cares if he overheard us.”

“Yes but Quentin didn’t know that! Not to mention he doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to jumping to conclusions!”

“Shit you’re right!!”  Margo brushed her hand against Quentin’s forehead.  “Fuck Eliot he’s freezing, we need to get him warmed up before he develops hypothermia on top of all this other shit.”

Time was running against them as the winter chill set in and the howling winds picked up. Eliot leaned down to pick up Quentin but frowned in concern. “Margo, he’s even lighter than last time. I barely need my telekinesis to lift him.”

Quentin unconsciously gripped onto Eliot’s shirt tightly whimpering about “being a burden” and begging for them to not leave him.  It broke their hearts to get a glimpse of the thoughts that must have been terrorizing Quentin for weeks now.

“Let’s get out of this goddamn forest.”  Margo casted a spell that would lead them out of the woods safely.

The trek back was silent, both afraid to voice what they were thinking.  They entered the cottage, and trooped into Quentin’s room, enlarging the bed to make room for all of them.  They casted a minor cleaning spell on Quentin that would have to suffice until he woke up.  Eliot and Margo took turns going to shower to clean of the dirt from their bodies and also regroup from the traumatic event.

When Margo came back from her shower, Eliot was standing at the foot of the bed, his shoulders shaking.  Walking up to him slowly, she placed a hand on his back.

“Margo,” Eliot sobbed, unable to hold back his tears any longer. “I can’t lose him.  Every time I close my eyes I see his fucking dead body half buried in that forest or floating down into the fountain or or…”

Eliot crumpled onto the floor and Margo wrapped her arms around him. Her eyes watered as she knew exactly how Eliot was feeling.  The image of Quentin’s body and the danger of the situation would haunt her for the rest of her life.

“We’ll get him help Eliot.  He mentioned once that he used to see a therapist.  We’ll convince him to go back or see a new one.  We just need to make sure he listens and talks to someone.”

“Oh, he’ll listen.” Eliot chuckled darkly. “Even if I have to chain him to the bed…and not in a fun and kinky way.”

The two crawled into bed spooning each other for comfort as they watched Quentin’s chest rise and fall.  Proof that he was still alive. They fought their heavy eyelids, terrified that if they went to sleep Quentin would be gone when they woke up.  When they finally did succumb to exhaustion, their dreams were plagued by nightmares of Quentin’s lifeless body that was always just out of reach.


	6. Chapter 6

When Quentin came to, late the next morning, he expected to feel the rough forest ground digging into his back.  Instead, he felt the familiar feeling of his mattress cushioning his aching body.  Even more strange, his arms were being manipulated by gentle hands, as a damp fabric ran across his forearms.  Without having to open his eyes, Quentin already knew it was Margo and Eliot once again cleaning up the mess he made.

As they wrapped gauze around his cuts, tears silently welled up behind his close eyes. Quentin couldn’t believe they were still treating him with such compassion.  Especially after what he almost did, there was no way they were going to be sticking around much longer.  ‘ _Fuck why do I have to ruin everything_.’ Quentin thought miserably.

Margo reached out and wiped away his tears, he couldn’t help but lean into her kind touch. Eliot lifted Quentin’s arm and kissed his wrist, and that simple but intimate gesture was enough to push the younger man over the edge.

“I-I-I’m sorry!” Quentin sobbed hysterically gasping for air.

“Shhh, Quentin, Shhh. It’s okay.”  Margo soothed, trying to calm him down.

“No it’s not fucking okay! I almost…” Quentin trailed off ashamed.

“Fine you’re right it’s not okay. Nothing is okay about finding someone you care about half alive in the middle of the fucking forest with blood dripping down their arms!”  Eliot bellowed, his voice shaking unable to contain the fear that consumed him. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout, I just…fuck Quentin. I was so scared.”  Eliot confessed blinking back tears. He picked up Quentin’s limp hand and brought it up to his lips.  Quentin swallowed hard trying to dispel the lump in his throat.

“Let’s all just calm down! Quentin, we aren’t mad at you. We just want to know why you didn’t come to us?  We could have found a way to help you before your self-harm and depression got worse.”  Margo said. 

“I didn’t want you to see so I used a glamour spell to hide the cuts and I-I-I lied about the group projects to hide myself and—" Quentin couldn’t look at them as he confessed his deceptions.

“No. Q, I don’t care about how you hid from us, I want to know _why_ you didn’t tell us you were struggling.”

“I thought I-I could handle it myself.  When I um realized I couldn’t, I went to find to you but-but you guys were busy talking…”

“Yes, we were so incredibly busy talking about how annoying _Todd_ is.” Eliot jumped in making sure to really emphasize who it was they were actually talking about.

Quentin blinked rapidly, he was certain that they were talking about him yesterday.  He convinced himself that this must be another part of their act. “What?”

“Quentin what you heard yesterday was us talking about how much it bothered me when Todd acts like an obsessive stalker.  In fact, if you came a little earlier, you would have heard us talking about how worried we were about you.”  It pained Margo to see how hard it was for Quentin to believe the words that they were telling him.  

“Even if that’s true…everything you said could apply to me!”

Margo threw her arms in the air, exasperated by Quentin’s stubbornness. “For fucks-sakes! No it doesn’t because I’m definitely not in love with Todd!”

“What? I mean…What?!” Quentin repeated lost for words. His heart had frozen in his chest and began beating double time.

“I loved you first, just for the record.” Eliot said a small smile on his face despite the seriousness of the situation.

“Love, like-like as in friends?”

Eliot sighed and cradled Quentin’s head in his hands, thumbs brushing against his burning cheeks as he brought their lips together tenderly.  When he pulled away Quentin had to remind himself to breathe.

“So not as friends.” Quentin stuttered, hope and love blossomed in his chest like a kindling fire.

“He finally gets it!” Margo laughed and pulled Quentin into a kiss as well.

Quentin noted that her lips felt distinctively different than Eliot’s, but no less amazing. Their kisses conveyed the depth of their feelings for him in ways that words failed to do.  His mind was split in two wanting desperately to believe them.  Still the dark thoughts lingered casting doubt upon their words. He needed more proof.  “Okay say that’s true…How can you love me though? I’m-I’m broken.” 

“You’re not broken Q.” Margo wished there was a way that Quentin could see himself through her eyes.

“I am and I ruin everything I touch.  That’s why I started to pull away, to protect you both.  I’m better off alone…I deserve to be alone.” 

“What do I keep saying? You are not alone here.” Eliot scooted down the bed and began to take off his sleeping pants.

“Eliot, is now really the time for that?”  Margo harshly whispered.

“Hush Bambi. I’m doing what needs to be done.”  Eliot took several deep breaths and revealed a few deep scars on his thighs.  Then he lifted his shirt to show matching ones scattered across his chest and lower back.

“You know how I told you I killed someone, well I didn’t tell you the whole story exactly.” Eliot wrapped his hand around Quentin’s wrist to feel his pulse, drawing in the courage to tell his story. 

“Logan didn’t just beat me up, he and a couple of friends dragged me into a barn held me down while they took turns kicking and punching me.  When they got bored of that they picked up a shovel and began attacking me with that instead.  They threw shit and piss on me and then left me for dead. The farmer came and found me an hour later covered in my own vomit because I threw up from the pain. I was in the hospital for a month…7 broken bones, a cracked skull, and over 30 stitches. I never knew why he targeted me he just did.”

Eliot looked off into the distance, a haunted expression on his face.  Quentin lightly traced over the scars, which caused Eliot to shiver lightly. “Eliot…Fuck I had no idea. I’m so sorry.” 

“We aren’t broken. It’s just...sometimes pieces go missing and we need a little help finding them again.”  Eliot sucked in a shuttering breath, gazing into Quentin’s eyes.

“Well shit, I guess it’s my turn for a heartfelt confession huh.” Margo curled into herself, resting her chin onto her knees.  “I won’t bore you with the details but my step father use to beat me.”

Quentin’s breath hitched in his throat and he looked sharply at Margo.

“I know so cliché. Anyway, I may not have physical scars, but I can still see the bruises he left behind.” Her voice turned darker as she recalled her past.  “One night…he got drunk. Really fucking drunk.  I saw him stumble into the pool and he couldn’t keep his head above the water.  I didn’t do anything to help. I remember being…happy that he was gone.  I still am.”

“Did he…um…ever?” Quentin couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“No, but if I was 18 that might have been a different story.”

“Jesus, Fuck I’m sorry.”

“See, we’re all fucked up somehow.  That’s fucking life.  And somedays you’ll need to be pulling one of us back the from the ledge, kicking our heads out of our own asses before we self- destruct.  But right now, let us take care of you.” Margo pleaded.

Quentin bit his lip and nodded.  It was impossible not to see how much these two cared about him.  Though it absolutely terrified him, he needed to just let go and let someone else take care of him for a little while.

“Do you remember when I told you magic comes from pain? Did you ever figure out why?” Eliot questioned, wrapping an arm around Quentin.

“I figured it’s because pain motivates you to be better?”

“Almost, but not quite.” Eliot paused a moment to collect his thoughts.  “Magic comes from pain because pain is just so fucking raw and powerful and honest.  You can numb it for a while, but it always comes back if left untreated. But here’s the twist, love is just as strong and magic far greater can come from that.”

“I love you guys so fucking much.  Not that I didn’t before you told me your secrets. I did, a lot, I um…I’m not good at this stuff.”  Quentin blushed. 

Quentin was still in shock that Eliot and Margo loved and trusted him enough to open up about their pasts.  He knew personally how difficult that could be, and he felt their bond grow stronger because of it.

The three magicians settled against Quentin’s headboard relaxing and talking about everything and nothing.  There was no rush as they had already decided to skip their classes and take a mental health day. 

Quentin tilted his head back and heaved a sigh. “I think I um…I think I need to go back to my therapist and start taking medication again. I-I’m better with them than off.  Also, I’m fucking terrified of what would happen if I don’t.”

“I’m proud of you Q for realizing that yourself.  We didn’t even need to chain you to the bed!” Eliot bopped Quentin on the nose playfully.

“Wait chain me to the bed? What?”  Quentin flushed with embarrassment, but not entirely opposed to the images it brought up.

“Interesting.” Eliot said noticing Quentin’s reaction.

Giving Quentin’s hand a squeeze, Margo slid off the bed. “Alright let’s get the show on the road. Q, where is your therapist?”

“Now?!” Quentin said panicked.

“No time like the present. I’m serious everyone up!” Margo clapped her hands and ushered Quentin into the bathroom for a much-needed shower.  She spelled his bandages so they would remain dry, before rushing off to get dressed.

An hour later they were all dressed and ready to go.  Eliot chose to wear the special tie Quentin had made for him as a sign of support.  Once back in the city they called a cab and gave them the address for Quentin’s old therapist’s office. 

The entire ride a jittery Quentin bounced his leg up and down. The urge to jump out of the cab increased the closer they got.  Recognizing his anxiety, Eliot placed a comforting hand on his knee and Margo leaned her head against his shoulder. The physical contact was exactly what Quentin needed and it allowed him to calm down. 

When they arrived, they paid the driver and headed towards the office which was located just outside of the city. They entered a nondescript waiting room and walked up to the front desk.

Quentin took a deep breath and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. “Hi is um Doctor Thomas around, I really need to speak with her.”

The receptionist looked up at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, Doctor Thomas left this practice for personal reasons about a month ago.  You should have received notice.”

“Great.” Quentin exhaled frustrated.

A well-known fact amongst magicians is that the more you practice magic the more you become attuned to it.  Therefore, when Quentin felt a strange magic probing him, his hands automatically shifted ready with a defensive spell.  He scanned the office for the unknown threat, but the only other person was a short man of African descent.  He stood by the office door and was dressed casually in jeans and a light sweater.  The strange man turned to check that no one else was watching and created a small ball of fire in his hands.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Trevor Wilson. What brings you guys in today?” Dr. Wilson smiled congenially at the trio.  He could sense the strong magic pouring off of them and was curious as to what brought them to this office.

Quentin reached out a hand to greet the doctor. “Hi Dr. Wilson, I’m Quentin Coldwater I came in to see Dr. Thomas but she’s no longer here.”

“Ah Quentin! I’ve been trying to contact you for a while now.  If you would follow me please, you two can wait here.”

“Um actually Dr. Wilson can they come with me.” Quentin fidgeted with the strap of his bag. He couldn’t explain why but he knew he couldn’t let Eliot and Margo out of his sight.

“Please call me Trevor, and I don’t see why not.”  He led them down the short hallway to his office.

Welcoming them into the room he took a seat and gestured Quentin to a chair in front of him. Eliot and Margo settled into a couch near the window, not wanting to interrupt but also to make sure Quentin knew they were there for him.

“Quentin I’ve been trying to reach out to you.  Your last doctor passed along some notes recommending that I take on your case in her absence.  I contacted your father, but he could only tell me you’ve been accepted into a special graduate program. I’m guessing that was code for Brakebills?”

“Um yes, so you’re a magician too?” Quentin’s eyes wandered around the room taking in the new surroundings.

“Yes. After I graduated, I became a psychologist.  I’m an empath with slight psychic abilities so I figured becoming a shrink is the best way to help people with my specialty. But enough about me, how can I help you?” 

Trevor could easily sense the anxiety coming off the young man in waves even without his abilities.  However, his gift was warning him that something dangerous was brewing just under the surface of Quentin’s mind.

“Oh um. I realized…recently that I shouldn’t have stopped taking my meds and I definitely needed to talk to a therapist again.”

Looking down at the files Dr. Thomas had left him, Trevor took note of the medications that were previously prescribed. “Why did you stop your meds?”

“Dean Fogg told me that I wouldn’t need them, and I believed him.” 

“Hmm yes. I’m quite familiar with Henry’s old-fashioned views on medication, but he’s wrong.  Medication is an important part of recovery, not to mention in your case, it could vastly improve your magical control.”

“Really? How?!”  Quentin’s eyes snapped onto the man in front of him eager to hear what he had to say.  Even Margo and Eliot sat up straighter wanting to hear the answer.

“Magic is influenced by emotions.  Hence, why before students are properly trained, they have outbursts when experiencing a strong emotional response.  Medication is a tool that can help you control your emotions and deal with them better than just bottling it all up.”

Casting an image of a bottle into the air to illustrate his point, Trevor continued his metaphor. “When you bottle up your emotions you also bottle up your magic.  Both can lead to disastrous consequences when the bottle becomes too full, so to speak.”  The imaginary bottle exploded in a dazzling array of sparks.

Quentin sat in silence contemplating all the things Trevor had told him, fiddling with his sleeves.

“If I may be frank; did those two clean up the cuts on your arms? I did a preliminary diagnosis scan on you and saw them.  The bandages on your right side are too neat for someone right-handed performing first aid on themselves.”  Trevor made sure to keep his tone light, not wanting Quentin to feel like he was being interrogated. 

“I didn’t cut—” 

“Empathic psychic here, you can’t lie to me.” Trevor smiled kindly.  In order for therapy to work, Quentin needed to be honest with him.

Quentin looked over to Eliot and Margo who gave him an encouraging nod. “Yes, they did.  Eliot and Margo have done so much for me. I-I love them for it, but its not fair to depend on them as much as I’ve been, which is why I’m here.”

“It’s really good that you can recognize that Quentin. Many times, people expect their problems to go away after solely confiding in their loved once. Unfortunately, that can put a serious strain on the relationship, which can in turn lead to both parties being hurt.”

The two continued their discussion, occasionally looking to Eliot and Margo for input.  After nearly an hour, Trevor and Quentin worked out a schedule to potentially meet once a week.  He gave Quentin a prescription for the SSRI’s he was on prior to Brakebills as well as his personal phone number in case there was an emergency. 

Additionally, he handed Eliot and Margo the instructions to make two specific potions. One potion could be used as a mild sedative if needed and one that would prevent Quentin from harming himself. 

Trevor could see how important these two were to Quentin and he wanted to keep them involved in his recovery process.  While he was curious about the nature of their relationship, he didn’t question it. 

“Remember I can also come to Brakebills if you need. I still have my alumni key.” Trevor said walking them out.

“Thanks Trevor, I’ll see you next week.” Quentin walked to the front desk to fill out the insurance forms and update his contact info.  He also listed Margo and Eliot as his emergency contacts.

“Bye Quentin. Eliot and Margo, it was nice to meet you guys as well.” Trevor waved a final goodbye to the group, pleased with how well the first session went.  He was confident in the younger man and planned to see him through his recovery.

The cab ride back to the city was a quiet one.  Quentin leaned his forehead on the window, staring at the passing scenery in silent contemplation.  He felt unusually optimistic about the future and that was enough for right now.

Eliot nudged Quentin with his shoulder, silently asking if he was okay.  Quentin nodded and wrapped Eliot’s arm around himself resting his head against the taller man.  He reached out for Margo too and laced his fingers with hers.

Once they returned to the familiar city, Quentin led them to a small grocery store to pick up some food for the weekend and his medications.  After all they’ve been through, it was nice to immerse themselves into the normalcy of grocery shopping.  They lightheartedly bickered over which brands were better and about what to make for dinner. 

Ultimately it took little over an hour to gather all the necessary items, and they left food and meds in hand heading to Quentin’s apartment.  They had been back several times before and luckily each of them had left a few articles of clothing there.  One less thing to worry about during their impromptu weekend away.

Eliot unlocked the door to their apartment building and took the familiar elevator ride to the top floor. Quentin had made copies of his key for Eliot and Margo so they could take advantage of the private space whenever they wanted.

“Trevor seems great Q! I think he can really help you.” Margo stated as she put away the groceries with magic.

Quentin ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding several cans of soup that flew over his head. “Yeah, so far he’s better than any other shrink I’ve talked to.  I like that I won’t have to hide my magic either.  Um maybe…you guys could see him too or ask him to recommend doctors for you both.”

“Maybe.  Therapy is the latest trend, I’d hate to be left out.” Eliot joked, but was seriously considering getting help as well.

They settled onto the couch in the living room and turned on the TV to a random channel. It had been a long and emotionally draining day. Eliot rested his head on Quentin’s lap and his feet draped over Margo.  Quentin kept tugging on the ebony curls and watching amused as they bounced back.  Margo held up her phone, surreptitiously taking photos of her two favorite men.

“I’m proud of you Quentin.” Margo said softly.

“What for love?” The term of endearment flowed off of Quentin’s tongue without a second thought. Margo felt her cheeks heat up, secretly loving the nickname.

“You were honest and open with Trevor and really made an effort today.”

“I know it’s not going to be easy, actually it’s going to be really fucking hard. But I know I have you guys and Trevor to help and well…I have a lot to live for.”

“We have a surprise for you!” Eliot jumped up animatedly. He skipped over to the kitchen and pulled something out of the top cabinet, one Quentin nor Margo could reach.  He returned and handed him a brightly wrapped package.

“We got it weeks ago and hid it up there until we could find a good time to give it to you.” Eliot squeezed between Margo and Quentin, tossing a arm around each.  It was hard to tell who was more excited about the gift.

Quentin unwrapped the present excited. When the wrapping paper was removed and discarded onto the floor, he could only stare in wonder at the soft leather messenger bag.  It was updated and stylish but still comfortable and functional.  All together the perfect replacement for his old bag.

“Holy shit! It’s perfect!”

Margo pointed out a few runes and charms that were layered onto the interior fabric. “We added a bunch of charms to make it virtually indestructible.  There’s also an extendable charm so you can put as many things as you want and it won’t get any heavier or rip!”

“Oh my god! You made me a bag just like Hermione Granger! I can’t believe it, this is so fucking AWESOME! Thank you!” Quentin gushed and geeked out over the amazing gift.  Margo and Eliot high fived each other, proud that they had hit the mark with the present.  The smile on Quentin’s face was bigger and brighter than they’ve seen in weeks and they seriously missed it. 

“Q, please don’t ever change.” Eliot pulled him into a kiss, thrilled that he was allowed to do that whenever he wanted. 

“Yeah yeah. Save all this tender shit for when I’m not here.” Margo joked.

Quentin leaned over and gave her a kiss as well. “I couldn’t forget about you too. Thanks Margo.”

“Yes well it’s purely selfish.  Now I don’t have to been seen with you lugging around that hideous old bag.” Margo winked and went back to the surfing the channels on the TV.

Eventually they couldn’t ignore their bodies’ angry demands for food and set about making dinner.  Quentin was quickly assigned to chop the ingredients, since the man could not cook to save his life.  The three worked together creating a simple pasta dish and the smells of garlic and tomatoes filled the air.

They sat around a makeshift kitchen table, composed of several plastic crates they stuck together. 

“We should probably buy a real kitchen table one of these days.  We can’t eat off of these crates forever, you guys can pick it out.  Actually, if you want, we could redecorate this whole place a bit to make it more us.”  Quentin commented absentmindedly, digging into his pasta.

Eliot paused, his fork halfway to his mouth.  “Bambi, did our little Q just ask us to move in with him?”

“Why yes I think he did…my how forward of you Quentin.”  Margo’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“I mean if you want to…I just figured when you guys graduate you can live here, and I could visit on the weekends until I graduate too. This place just feels like home with you guys around.” Quentin couldn’t imagine living in the apartment without them, but realized it was a big thing to commit too. He looked at them hoping they would stay.

In the end, it was a no brainer for Eliot and Margo.  No where else had ever felt as close to a home as this apartment.  Of course, that could be largely due to the man they both loved.  They were honored that Quentin wanted them to be apart of his future.

“I’ve been dying to redecorate the loft and bedroom! I have so many ideas, this is going to be so much fun!” Margo babbled on about different styles and patterns she could incorporate into the two areas.

Later on, Quentin cuddled between Margo and Eliot, the record player playing softly in the background. They talked idly making plans for the future and exchanged lazy kisses.  Quentin felt more content that he ever thought was possible.  He wished he could capture this moment to re-watch over and over again.

“I think the cure for insomnia is cuddling.”  Quentin said a goofy smile on his face.

“I found in my research wild hot sex works just as well.” Eliot said lavishly, cupping Quentin’s ass in his hand.

In the darkness Margo smirked. “I can literally feel the heat radiating off your face Q.”

“Don’t worry, you’re safe for now.  We have all the time in the world for that.” Eliot placed a kiss on to Quentin’s shoulder. 

Quentin leaned down and kissed Margo’s head that was tuck under his chin. “Yeah, just the three of us.”

Quentin could still sense the darkness lurking in the shadows of his mind, threatening to take over, but he had a renewed sense of hope.  He knew it’s wasn’t going to get better overnight or even within the next month. However, he never needed anyone to fix him.  He just needed someone he loved enough to motivate him to fix himself…or as Eliot would say to help find his missing pieces.  He still doesn’t feel whole yet, but perhaps someday.

It’s fairly early for once as Quentin laid in bed tired from the intense emotions he experienced over last few days.  ‘ _Mmm definitely could get use to this_ ,” Quentin final thought echoed in his head as he fell into a peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me ages to write, but I'm really happy with the results! Just the epilogue is left and this story will be complete. :D


	7. Chapter 7

Wiping down the counters, Quentin hummed tunelessly waiting for the night manager to come and take over.  Pleased that they were cleaned, he looked proudly around the coffee shop/book store he opened up about five years ago.  ‘ _Read a Latte Café'_  catered to both magical and nonmagical beings with the magical portion of the business hidden in the back behind a warded curtain.

Once Quentin graduated from Brakebills, he took over managing the building he inherited from his grandfather.  With the help of Margo and Eliot,  he spent the first two years renovating the place and adding protection wards.  Then, he converted the store on the first floor into his beloved café.  Not only did it bring in extra revenue toward the upkeep of the building, Quentin now had a valid excuse to buy even more books.

Although he loved his job, it was 6 o’clock in the evening and after working for nearly 10 hours, Quentin couldn’t wait to go home.  Business had been amazing the whole day, the wintery weather driving commuters in for a hot drink to warm their spirits. The evening rush had just come and gone, leaving only a few stragglers still nursing their drinks.  Quentin decided to take advantage of the lull to clean the espresso machines, knowing the other employees he hired could handle things for a bit.

Staring at his reflection in the shiny metal, Quentin couldn’t help but compare himself to how he was prior to meeting Eliot and Margo.  Physically, little changed but his muscles were more toned after years of caring stacks of books and sacks of beans.  The most drastic change to his outward appearance was his hair, which hung halfway down his back twisted into an intricate braid, curtesy of Margo.

The biggest transformation was the aura of peace and confidence that surrounded Quentin, causing many to respect him greatly.  His easygoing nature put people at ease and the traits combined made him an excellent boss and landlord.  The scars on his arms, he no longer was ashamed of, told people of the silent battles he’d been through and survived. 

However, things were not always this way.  A few months after his father died from cancer, Quentin spiraled down hard and fast.  He skipped appointments with his therapist Trevor and refused to talk to anyone.  He had to be put in a 72-hour psyche hold at a mental health facility when he tried to commit suicide.  They only approved his release when he agreed to meet with Trevor twice a week and go to the clinic’s group therapy sessions every Thursday.  It took him one and a half years to work through his issues.  They changed his meds several times testing different prescriptions, both magical and non, until they found the right combination.

The bright tinkling bells and the waft of arctic air distracted him from his thoughts.  Quentin turned to see Joey, the night manager, walking in shaking off the flurries of snow that stuck to his coat.  “Hey boss.”

“Joey! Thank god!”  Quentin shouted, not bothering to hide his relief.

“Busy?” Joey hung his coat on the coat hanger by the door and laughed as he tied his apron around his waist.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Quentin walked into the small office to grab his things and the notes he made throughout the day.  “We are almost out of the special Brazilian coffee grinds, so if you could put in that order that would be great.  Also, the bookshelves desperately need to be reorganized.”

Nodding his head, Joey took stock of what else needed to be done during the night shift. “No problem, have a nice night!”

Quentin waved a quick goodbye and walked a few steps to the entrance to the apartments above. Stopping to check the mail, he collected a small package delivered for Eliot.  Unlocking the door to his home, he strolled in only to be tackled by 60 pounds of fluff and muscle.

“Hey Buddy! Did you miss me?”  The golden retriever barked excitedly and licked at Quentin’s face.  They adopted Rupert from an animal shelter when he was just a pup.  He quickly grew under their loving care and between the three magicians, was spoiled rotten.

Rupert wagged his tail and ran around Quentin with unending energy.  He bounded away and came back with his leash in his mouth.  “Okay, let me just get changed and then we’ll go for a walk.”

Not much had changed over the years in the apartment that he now called home.  Although, touches of Eliot and Margo’s personal styles could be seen scattered throughout.  The first thing they did upon moving in was magically expand the closets and bathroom to make room for all of their belongings.  

Quentin walked into their bedroom eager to change out of his work clothes.  Rupert followed close behind and jumped onto their massive king size bed that dominated the room.  “Rupert,” Quentin scolded. “You know you aren’t allowed on the bed.”

Rupert whimpered, flashing his puppy dog eyes and just like that Quentin crumpled. “Fine, but it’ll be our secret.” 

Rolling his eyes, he changed into sweatpants and one of Eliot’s cozy t-shirts. Throwing on his winter coat and grabbing his notebook, he attached Rupert to his leash and the two headed out. 

Their small neighborhood had gained the attention of several big corporations who funded its urban renewal.  Shiny new buildings begun popping replacing the old, attracting more people to the area.  Quentin received several offers for his building, but he turned down each one.  The building was his home and he refused to give that up. 

Several blocks away was a small dog park they frequently visited with Rupert.  Quentin greeted the familiar faces he saw and let Rupert off his leash.  The playful retriever dashed off chasing after a small French bulldog.

Quentin settled onto a bench and pulled out his notebook checking over his to-do list.  Trevor advised him to utilize the lists to prevent himself from being too overwhelmed.  Instead, he broke down any project into smaller more manageable tasks.  The technique worked and Quentin rarely left home without a list.

He was in the processes of looking for an assistant manager to help during the day.  Quentin wanted to take more days off so he could help Eliot with his shop, ‘ _A Quick Fix_.’ Eliot was thinking of expanding the business and asked for Quentin’s help during the process. 

After graduation, Eliot jumped from job to job losing himself to depression when he struggled to find something he was passionate about.  It wasn’t until he was forced into rehab after overdosing on narcotics and alcohol, that he discovered his calling.  There was a program there that allowed him to work with his hands, fixing small items. 

Eliot discovered that he had a knack for it and cultivated that talent until it blossomed into his career.  His business offered services that specialized in finding, repairing, and/or selling different items.  He thrived on the challenge of puzzling out how to make things work again.

Margo also planned to help Eliot’s expansion project by offering her skills in security systems.  She was the Executive Director at a magical security company, and the youngest to have earned that position.  Her clients included other business, banks, schools, libraries, and more.  It started as a small enterprise but with her expertise and leadership skills, it grew about 15% each year.

The three were lucky to not only find success in their various fields, but also in their relationship. Every passing year, their love for one another grew.  Sure, there were fights and screaming matches, but they never stopped loving each other.  They accepted the good and bad parts of their lives and their jagged edges fit together like a puzzle.

Quentin was brought out of his memories by Rupert’s loud barks.  He looked up in time to see the hyperactive dog launch himself into a mud filled puddle.

“You daft dog! Why would you do that?”  Quentin groaned and Rupert looked up at him, a silly doggy smile on his face.  Exasperated Quentin left the park and headed home.

When the two walked back into the apartment, Quentin saw Margo sitting on the couch sipping wine.  He also spotted Eliot up on the loft, probably working on a project he brought home with him.

“What did you do to my poor baby!”  Margo screeched, seeing Rupert caked in mud and dripping all over the front hall.

“Your ‘ _poor baby_ ’ jumped into a dirty-ass-puddle and now needs a B-A-T-H.” Quentin struggled to hold on to the squirming dog, who wanted nothing more than to snuggle with Margo.

Rupert detested baths and would hide beneath whatever piece of furniture he could squeeze himself under when he heard the word bath.  Quentin dragged the protesting dog into the tub, but after a few thwarted escape attempts he cooperated, sulking the entire time.

Once Rupert’s coat was mud free and dried off, Quentin released his hold and the dog flew off in search of Margo.  He needed to change once more, but then he was finally free to relax.  He strolled back into the living room and saw Rupert laying by Margo’s side chewing on a toy. 

“How was your day Q?” Eliot called from above.

“Good. I saw Trevor during my lunch break.  He said with my progress I could go down to seeing him biweekly instead of every week.”  Quentin flopped onto the couch, reaching out to steal some of Margo’s wine.

“That’s fantastic! Do you need any more medical potions?”

“Yes I was going to ask if you could help me brew some tomorrow.”  Quentin passed back the wine and turned on the radio. “How was your days?”

“The dumbasses at work can’t tell the difference between a Praesidium Ward and a Clipeum Ward.  I specifically went over the schematics three times and they still fucked it up.  I should just fire them all.” Margo huffed irritated.

“If you do that, you’d have to do everything yourself. No more delegating.”  Margo just rolled her eyes at Quentin and placed her feet in his lab.  He snickered knowing it meant he was right and began rubbing her feet.

Eliot stopped for the day and walked down the stairs to join them. “I had a fantastic day.  I fixed the time piece and added a compass just as my client requested.  I also got hired to fix a relic they found at Brakebills.”

“That’s amazing El! Oh hey, you got a package today. I put it in the kitchen.”

“Finally! I’ve been waiting for that for three weeks now.” Eliot marched into the kitchen homing in on the small package.  He opened up the box carefully and pulled out a delicate gadget.

“What is it?” Quentin asked, curiously looking over the couch.

Eliot held up the tool. “This is a highly specialized tool that will help me recircuit the magical or electrical currents flowing through any given object.”

“Oh, is that for the antique camera Mr. Simmons requested?”

“Yes. He’s been on my ass making last minute changes.”

“Can I help?” Quentin loved watching Eliot at work.  There was something truly enchanting about they way Eliot would immerse himself into his job.

“Of course.” Eliot kissed Quentin and Margo’s heads and jumped over the sofa to sit next to Margo. “So Bambi, your birthday is coming up. What do you want to do?”

Margo fiddled with the three gems on her necklace. “Hmm I’m not sure.”

Quentin took out his phone and began searching for ideas.  “We could go to that new Mexican restaurant you’ve been wanting to try.”

“Ugh. We used to throw killer parties that lasted all night and only ended when the cops showed up.  Now we are so domestic it’s disgusting.” Margo lamented. 

A crazy idea struck her a moment later. “Oh my god I know what we can do! Let’s get tattoos!”

“Isn’t it a little early to have a midlife crisis.” Eliot looked at her skeptically.

“Firstly, fuck off.  Secondly, please we’ve always talked about getting matching tattoos.”

“We talked about that once and it was when we were drunk and feeling sorry for ourselves.”

“The point is that it’s my birthday. Rupert you think it’s a good idea right.” Rupert barked and Margo slid off the couch to rub his belly.

 “See even he agrees. Please.” She flashed them her puppy dog eyes and Rupert copied her look.  The double attack was enough for Eliot to caved in.  They turned their efforts on Quentin.

“There is absolutely no way I’m going to give in.”  Quentin crossed his arms almost positive he wouldn’t succumb to their plight.

Needless to say, about two weeks later on Margo’s birthday all three of them stood in the middle of a tattoo parlor about to get matching tattoos.  They treated Margo to dinner at a fancy restaurant before the tattoos and Margo dressed to the nines, outfit complete with a birthday sash and crown. 

They decided on a simple outline of a puzzle piece done in black ink, but on different parts of their bodies.  Eliot got his on the side of his right middle finger, Quentin on his left inner arm over his scars, and Margo got hers on the top of her back just below her neck.  Pleased with the results they casted a quick healing spell and ran off into the night giggling like idiots. Light playful brushes of the lips turned heated and desperate and they agreed to return home to continue their celebrations. 

Margo and Eliot tied Quentin’s hands to the headboard, silently planning out the night ahead.  Quentin couldn’t wait to get started, over the years they had plenty of time to experiment and he discovered very little they did turned him off.  Eliot was just about to free Quentin’s erection from the confines of his boxer briefs when Rupert jumped onto the bed landing on Quentin’s stomach.

“Did I just get cockblocked by a dog?”  Eliot asked incredulously. Rupert merely whimpered and licked Eliot’s face.

Laughing Margo levitated a hamburger shaped chew toy out of the room and charmed it to move around every 15 minutes. “There that will distract him for at least an hour or so. 

She reached under the bed and pulled out their special toy chest. A shiver of pure pleasure ran down Quentin’s spine when he heard the locks snap open.

“Now where were we…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Praesidium and Clipeum are both Latin for protection and shield, respectively. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading this story and I hope you enjoyed. Until next time! :)


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